


Kisses Don't Heal All Boo-Boos

by Besin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Spoilers for Chapter 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8776108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Besin/pseuds/Besin
Summary: SPOILERS FOR GAME CHAPTERS 9 AND 10
It's not Prompto's fault that Ignis is so photogenic.





	

“You know, you take a lot of pictures of Ignis.”

Prompto glanced up, eyes staring owlishly at the man before him as his fingers stilled against his boot laces. “Well yeah,” he says with a snort. He turned his attention back to his boots. “He’s the most photogenic, you know. Dude can’t seem to look bad through the lens.”

“Oh.”

Prompto paused in his lacing. Quickly, his eyes turned up. “Noctis,” he began in warning. “What was that ‘Oh?’ That’s your ‘Thinking About Lots Of Stuff But Not Comfortable Saying Anything’ oh.”

“That’s a mouthful.” Tapping the camera screen, Noctis shrugged. “I was just thinking maybe you liked him.”

“Well yeah. He’s my friend.”

“Liked him like a boyfriend.”

“Oh, come on. You know I’d tell you if I liked someone.”

Noctis’ nose scrunched, and he peered a bit harder at the photo before him. His thumb tapped the pad for the next shot. “You didn’t tell me you were dating Lucille until a week after you broke up.”

“That was _High School_. And besides – it’s different.”

“My point is,” Noctis interjected, exasperated. He looked up from the camera to fix his attention on Prompto. “My point is that you’re shy about stuff like this. Relationships.”

“Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll tell you the next time I get a crush on someone, okay?”

Eyes falling back to the camera, Noctis shrugged. “Makes to difference to me.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“You just take a lot of photos of him. That’s all.”

“Anyone ever tell you curiosity killed the cat?”

“Well then it’s a good thing I’m not a cat.”

…

The tripod was heavier in Prompto’s hand later that day than it usually was. As he lugged it out of the car and up the hill, the strap pulled at his shoulder like a strip of iron. When he shrugged it off onto the ground he breathed a sigh of relief and reached up to massage his neck.

“Sore?”

Prompto glanced up, eyes landing on Noctis as the man stood above him. In the distance, Gladiolus and Ignus had arranged themselves for the shot. Grabbing up the tripod and setting it to rights, he shrugged. “I guess. That last one was a real arm jerker. Literally.”

Slowly, Noctis nodded.

With a triumphant grin, Prompto set the camera on the tripod and locked it into place.

Okay, get in there. I’m taking the shot.” He watched as black hair bobbed away towards the others, then planted his eye against the viewer. Motioning with his hand, he called, “Hey, get in a bit closer, will you? Glady, your arm is entirely out of view.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Just get in the shot!”

Taking a cheeky step to the left, Gladiolus fixed the camera with a wide grin as his shoulder just barely came into view.

Setting the timer, Prompto rushed forward, throwing his arm across Noctis’ shoulder with a laugh. Suddenly it was hard to ignore the way Ignis’ jacket was still miraculously soft as his fingertips brushed it lightly, dragging across a bicep. The camera flashed. Then they all got in the car and continued the drive to Hammerhead.

…

Ignus made a comment on his expression as Prompto flipped through the photos in the car that night. Prompto laughed. Joked about the time limit.

When they settled down for camp, going through the camera roll, Prompto deleted it when the others weren’t looking.

…

Ignis took to rolling in his sleep.

Prompto took to throwing his arm over Ignis to stop him from falling off his cot.

Ignis ran very warm.

…

“Okay, so I’m pretty sure I have a thing for Ignis and I’m pretty sure it’s your fault.”

“How is that _my_ fault?” Noctis droned dryly.

With an exasperated toss of his hands, Prompto made a melodramatic “Gah!” before flopping unceremoniously into the hotel chair. He glanced around, peering at the surprisingly aged wallpaper and uniform beds. “You made me think of it, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” the Prince agreed skeptically. “And what brings this up an hour before we face Leviathan?”

“Well, you know. You’re going to be busy with Luna after this. And we’ll all be on the go. I just wanted to get this out while you still had time for little old me. You know?”

“I’ll always have time for you.”

…

Except then Luna was gone, Noctis didn’t have time, and Ignis couldn’t see any more.

…

Prompto had never been more conflicted than the moment they brought Ignis into the mines with them. On one hand he could get hurt. On the other, he fought rather well. He was a slow walker, and tripped easily, but Prompto made a point of staying beside him. Caught him whenever the hill was too steep or a rock got in the way. Held him through every stumble.

Ignis’ hands were still warm. His words were still wise. Prompto honestly had no idea how they would ever survive without him to figure everything out for them.

That night, after a dinner of Cup Noodles and a continuation of Noctis’ and Gladiolus’ silent treatment, Prompto helped Ignis into the tent. The cane was still clutched in his hand from when he’d shown Ignis to the chair earlier that night.

As he fetched extra blankets, Prompto found himself asking, “Does it still hurt?”

“It has healed,” Ignis parroted bleakly.

If only Prompto had a gil for every time he’d heard that. “Now we just wait,” he continued for the older man.

Setting the blankets at the end of the cot, Prompto reached slowly for Ignis’ collar, then paused. “Need any help tonight?”

“I think I can manage on my own, thanks.” Patting along the edge of the cot, he carefully located the small sack dangling from the side. Reaching for his glasses, he swiftly removed them and placed them inside, sending the scar that curved around his eye and cheek into the scattered, dappled light that fell through the tent roof.

“Can I touch your face?” The words were out before Prompto could stop them, hanging in the air like some odd joke.

Ignis’ face turned up; not quite laying his blank eyes on Prompto but not quite looking away. Then, much to Prompto’s surprised, he nodded sagely.

Blond eyebrows rose in sharp disbelief as the words sunk in.

“Go ahead, then.”

So he did.

The raised tissue of the scar was smooth; textureless aside from the ridges that cut into his face like the grim reminder of the battle with Leviathan that they were. Before Prompto knew what he was doing he had leaned forward, pressing his lips to the scar as his hands fell to grip Ignis’ wrists.

A hitch of breath was the initial reply, followed by a chuckle. “I don’t know if anyone told you, but kisses don’t heal all boo-boos.”

“I’m not five,” Prompto whispered. He felt quiet. It was hard to explain, but something had begun to thrum in his chest that made speaking too much and too little all at once. It was too loud.

“I’ve gathered as much.” Too loud.

“I’m in love with you.” Not loud enough.

Another subtle hitch of a breath.

Not nearly loud enough.

Prompto moved to pull away, but in an instant hands had twisted with his and blank eyes turned in his direction – too high, not meeting his gaze.

“Sorry,” Prompto managed around the lump in his throat. Too quiet.

“Don’t be,” Ignis breathed.

Just right.

Prompto nodded. Then, flustered, he managed an embarrassed, “Okay.”

Warm hands curled around cold. Ignis’ expression was unreadable. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“A few weeks,” he admitted softly. “I was sure right before the Leviathan. And after…” He paused. “I- This is going to sound really bad, but I was really happy to be able to touch you more.”

”You were making the best of a situation. Nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with finding something positive in all this.”

Despite his grin, Prompto’s bottom lip wobbled dangerously.

Ignis’ eyes blindly turned closer to his, closer to target than before. Searching. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t think any of us are alright at the moment,” Prompto admitted wetly, his throat closing against itself as the first tears began to trail down his cheeks. “We’re all way in over our heads.”

A small chuckle followed this; deep and warm. “I think you’re the first of us to say that aloud.” A brief pause. “What of your affections for Cindy?”

“What about them?”

“It’s just a bit of a twist on my end, is all.”

Prompto laughed. “Noct and I had this conversation a while back, and I promised to let him know whenever I had a crush. But that’s all it turned out to be – a crush.” He stopped abruptly as a hand trailed warmly up his arm – drawing a line up his bicep, shoulder, neck – before cupping his cheek, warmer than a Fira. “What?”

“I would like to kiss you, now.”

Prompto stared, blinking awkwardly at the older man’s impassive expression. “Why?”

“I should think it’s obvious.”

Slowly, he nodded. The hand on his cheek shifted.

And Ignis descended.

The kiss was warm, wet, yet dry and cold. It had been a while since Prompto had been kissed, but maybe he hadn't been kissing the right people. The ever-shifting pressure against his bottom lip sent a sharp thrill through his chest. Chapped skin scraped and warm fingers curled into his hair as he hardly managed to keep track of the slow, easy movements.

And then it ended.

And Prompto opened his eyes to find Ignis flushed and nervous, withdrawing from their shared space and into his own. All he could manage was, “Oh.”

“I’ve wanted to do that for quite a while,” Ignis admitted shyly.

Prompto cleared his throat. “You – uh – can do it whenever you like.”

A smile lit on the older man’s face in reply; the wry thing Prompto had barely managed to catch on film a handful of times.

With neither noticing who instigated, their hands tangled together atop the blankets, and they both quietly hoped that things would be better for a while.


End file.
